


host of sacred questions

by CampionSayn



Series: the anthony trollope way [2]
Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftermath of Manipulation, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e07 Temptation, Gen, M/M, Not beta read--we die like men, References to Depression, implied/referenced eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 10:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: Oh, the guilt. Everyone forgets that guilt can fester and curdle and Lex is a little irritated in the wake of Demona's manipulations of Brooklyn in that nobody notices guilt's ravaging marks covering Brooklyn.Goliath may forgive him, but that doesn't mean Brooklyn forgives himself.





	host of sacred questions

Stone sleep rejuvenates and heals open flesh wounds, but it doesn't heal the marks, broad and deep as they are, on the emotions and the psyche.

Lex knew this long before the passing of a thousand years and walking into the new world around them like some immortal child of Oberon deciding to sleep and see what might come. They came from a time of barbarism and cruelty, with only blushing glances at kindness and dignity.

Brooklyn had been forgetting to eat unless he was reminded, hand on his shoulder and food offered up for a try; eyes lost in the middle distance and sometimes coming back to himself with muscle tense and wings low like he'd forgotten where he was.

He'd been less inclined to delight in the newness around them, too. The shadows seeming to take on new form and malice after Demona played her horrid trick on Brooklyn, and even after Goliath said it was understandable, Brooklyn was young and Demona was old and how could he refuse to hope for the best?

So Lexington did his best to help without drawing attention.

When Brooklyn got lost in his thoughts, Lex made himself keep close and edge him out of almost gliding into monuments or through plate glass windows by being on one side of Brooklyn or the other in the air.

It seemed to work well enough, though there were initial close calls to Lexington when Brooklyn was so deep in his head. Like when he almost nosedived into the observation deck of the Empire State Building; his red coloring almost complementary to the exterior lights of the two in the morning landmark--a thought that only passed through the smaller gargoyle after he'd literally spun into Brooklyn's wing space and acted like a whirlwind to change their trajectory.

They'd spun down over a dozen floors of the building before Brooklyn unfurled his wings wide and Lex bounced off the ledge of the eighty-sixth floor and had to scramble to get enough air in his wings so he didn't go through a window himself.

Brooklyn had laughed it off, thankful for the save, and Lex had been too glad of him being alright that he didn't bring up that he was scared shitless.

He certainly didn't bring up the internal bruising he got as a result of the incident, just talked so much it was like he was just vomiting information until they got back to the castle and Brooklyn was actually present in more ways than one.

When the other forgot to eat, Broadway offering up the job of assistant to making dinner notwithstanding, Lex took to visiting out of the way food vendor carts and leaving behind television sets, cellular phones and other merchandise that people tossed away that he'd made like new in exchange for meals he'd take when they weren't looking.

Trial and error was such a thing that Lex's understanding and ability involving electronics grew infinitely faster than it probably would have otherwise.

Stylish looking bagels filled with cheesy meat and sometimes frosted bacon was an unexpectedly delightful experience for the both of them--for Brooklyn it was the taste and for Lex it was the look on his face after the first bite.

Medium rare beef burgers served with something called "shoestring fries" was an experience as neither of them had ever had fried potatoes in such a way, and didn't know beef could be seasoned and actually taste like more than dead animal, fat and salt.

The Egyptian street food was a real surprise and experience for the both of them--falafel, baba ganoush and fiteer baladi, which looked like it would probably be bad for them, but were in fact not that rich and very filling. Brooklyn was strangely docile and amicable to listening to Lexington explain the difference between the fiteer and pizza, a lesson he'd tried bestowing to Broadway that had been cut short after ten minutes because Broadway didn't care about the history or style, only about the cooking and the taste and if Elisa could eat it while she was in the hospital. Brooklyn actually listening to Lex ended up cheering _him_ up afterwards. Ended up making them forget for a time that they'd have to go down and relieve Broadway from his place in the kitchen, trying to dim his own guilt for something that was an accident, unlike what they did. Different but still effective feeling of dark binding his insides and making things change for him.   
  
_(Growth like this, between the three of them, was something none of them could have imagined, nor wanted to.)_

Scottish food brought nostalgia down on the both of them when Lex found Brooklyn alone in the back of the gardens, wings drawn tight to him and hand flashing across the crest of his beak in an effort for him to believe Lex didn't already know he'd been crying. He'd missed a streak of salt water on the underside of his jaw, but Lex let him pretend; false smile in place and handing over a takeout box of sticky toffee pudding, grouse meat and Scotch pie.

"Since we're all missing it, a little taste of home might do us some good, eh?"

This turned out to be, quite possibly, the worst thing to say. Brooklyn took a breath and tried to smile, but when he'd made to say something in either gratitude or a joke, he'd simply let himself shake like a lightning bug trapped in a jar, breathing deep and ragged before sobbing into his hands. Trying to hide tears behind talons, he barely got out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, thank you--I-I-'m sorry, I can't seem to stop crying--!" before Lexington grabbed his arm and took him to nearby stone bench, sitting him down, setting the food to the side without a thought and then drawing Brooklyn close to his chest to allow him his sadness, bloated guilt inside of him coming out in a flood of tears to decorate Lexington's chest.  
  
Three months building up the damn until something that seemed so harmless broke it down to unleash the flood.  
  
Lex wished more than ever that he had wings like the others, wide enough to offer better shelter than the webs he had in his own possession, but he tried to make do by tucking Brooklyn's head under his chin so his wide beak tilted against his collar bones and Lex could wrap his arms over his shoulders and dangle his hands down the shaking back to rub lines and circles into the strong notches of his spine.  
  
It was an awkward comfort, but Brooklyn didn't pull away or snap for Lex to let him go, he just tried to get himself under control; heavy breathing heating the already hot tears staining olive skin, arms much stronger than Lexington's hugging his own chest because the smaller gargoyle's wings made it impossible to wrap around him, but one palm was facing out to the feel Lex's heartbeat.  
  
He couldn't seem to stop saying he was sorry, though, and it broke Lex's heart because he could read between the lines with just two words.   
  
Lex wasn't under under delusion that anything he said while Brooklyn was like this would be of any honest help or that anything he said would get through to him, but maybe it would be worth it and--selfish as it was--it would make him feel better, useful even.  
  
_"I'm sorry."_  
  
"It's okay, Goliath's safe."  
  
_"I'm sorry."_  
  
"It's not your fault Demona's a lying, manipulative bitch."  
  
_"I'm sorry."_  
  
"You thought you were doing what was right."  
  
_"I'm sorry."_  
  
"You'll know better in the future."  
  
_"I'm sorry."_  
  
Sighing, Lexington adjusted his head so he could nuzzle the white hair his chin had been set against, almost like kissing the crown of Brooklyn's head as his horns pressed dully to the sides of his face, smooth against Lexington's cheeks and something of a focusing point as he clearly said, "I know. I forgive you."  
  
The string of repetitions ceased as Brooklyn almost choked on air and spit and his own self-hatred, both palms almost harsh and unforgiving on Lexington's shoulders as he nearly shoved him off so he could nearly scream, "**_How_**?! I nearly ruined everything! I almost destroyed Goliath as our leader--no, worse, as a person! I actually watched Demona aim a lethal weapon at Goliath, the same as the rest of us; and just because I was attacked by some confused and stupid humans, let her talk me into believing that all of humanity was scum! Like Goliath was actually part of the problem! If Elisa hadn't found a way around the spell I probably would have--!"  
  
"Don't!"   
  
Eyes that had gone a shining white, blazing fury blinding Brooklyn within the moment, dimmed down and out into seeing Lexington right in front of him, tears cascading down his own face as his much smaller hands clutched at Brooklyn's wrists.  
  
Horror took the place of self-hatred and fury, but when he made to yank his hands off of Lex, the other held tight and sure to the other, closing his eyes and almost begging as his voice dissolved into murmurs and choppy sentences.  
  
"Don't say it, please, please... I know, I know, I know, but please... don't say you would have gone away. Don't say the words."  
  
Because if Brooklyn said the words, then Lexington would have to live with them in fear of what could have been or could be forever.  
  
Because, if Brooklyn could be honest with himself, sometimes even he wasn't sure how that sentence would ever finish. Would have have hurt Demona or would he have hurt himself?  
  
...Brooklyn wouldn't put Lexington through..._that_. That thing that haunted him in his waking hours, a nasty companion to his rage and his shame.  
  
He wouldn't put Lex through listening to whatever words might fall out of his mouth in a moment of those feelings combining to crystallize and become real.  
  
"...Okay."  
  
Those red wings that Lex so admired in more ways than one, lifted up and around the both of them as Brooklyn breathed deep, deep, in and out like a barn door in a hurricane; broad and strong appendages enclosing them in warm, protective comfort. Lexington riding out his own tears, choking but much softer than Brooklyn's had ever been or ever might be in his life, and Brooklyn allowing Lex to keep one of his hands between his own. He'd gently pulled the other hand away to bring Lex to his chest in a twin maneuver to Lexington's comforting him, save for Brooklyn managing to bring that spare hand around his shoulders and rest at his neck, solid and soothing and present.  
  
There was no getting out of it, these things that had happened to the both of them, these things that had happened to every member of the clan, and affected all of them in ways that were different and the same and drove their emotions rampant or stagnant, hollowed out or dried plain to see.  
  
The best they could do was be there for each other and, by all the stars in the sky and all the lights that shined down below them in the heart of the city, Brooklyn would try his damnedest to be there for the others and, most important and present, Lexington before him.  
  
He wasn't blind. He knew Lexington was there for him in every way that counted since Demona had fucked with his head and his trust. He knew. It was just... he'd never been good with words, only with actions, and even then he wasn't always clear and before that moment, thought Lexington would simply think he was being humored or brushed off by any words that Brooklyn might have finally strung together like sense. Lexington was good with words, and took them to heart, so Brooklyn had to think before he said them.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Not very eloquent, but they were true and honest, and seemed to make Lexington feel better with the way he loosened up against Brooklyn's chest, finally letting go of Brooklyn's hand and wrapping wiry arms around his torso to give him the hug he'd wanted to give earlier. A late comfort, but one they both enjoyed with Lexington asking, of course, "For what?"  
  
Brooklyn shrugged and squeezed him closer, "I dunno. Listening to me, keeping me from crashing into buildings, feeding me. Everything."  
  
Lexington smiled into the skin of Brooklyn's chest and he knew he found the right words.


End file.
